“I’ve shot feature films, travelled across 57 countries, and spent most of my life behind a camera.
But everything began with one gift from my grandfather.

I’m Aleksander Krzystyniak, a filmmaker from Poland, and this is my first time in India. I work as a cinematographer and director of photography, and I’ve been part of four feature films that have screened in Polish theatres and film festivals. My work explores the darker corners of the human mind—loss, guilt, fear, and the difficult climb back to hope. They aren’t big-budget blockbusters, but honest, grounded cinema. One of my films is currently in post-production.

Filmmaking was never the obvious path. I come from a family of doctors, where stability was expected. Cinema meant uncertainty, long hours, and constant struggle. Yet even as a teenager, I found myself observing strangers, trying to capture moments that felt real.

Getting into Poland’s National Film School was one of the hardest battles of my life. Hundreds apply each year; only a few are selected. The entrance exam wasn’t about theory, but vision—telling a story using only images, without dialogue. When I was selected, it felt like an anchor. I was coming out of a painful breakup, and film school became proof that something meaningful lay ahead.

But my journey began much earlier. When I was ten, my grandfather placed an old Yashica camera in my hands. Black-and-white film. No screen. He simply said, ‘Go catch something.’ That camera taught me patience, observation, and respect for the moment. I still own it, and even used it during my entrance exams.

Film school meant small batches, endless screenings, and learning to speak without words. I once shot a documentary on a 60-year-old Soviet-era camera—against my university’s advice. It received the highest grade.

After graduating, I chose movement over comfort. I began travelling. Today, I’ve visited 57 countries; India is my 58th. Travel and filmmaking feed each other—you realise people are the same everywhere, only the colours change.

Two years ago, my grandfather passed away. His absence reminds me why I do this—to preserve stories before they disappear.

India fascinates me. Its diversity and rich culture feel deeply cinematic. Someday, I hope to shoot a film here. Cinema has taught me this: don’t overplan life. Stay open. Observe deeply. Technology will change—but without emotion and honesty, no image will last.”